Jeremie's first destination the following morning was Aelita's bedroom, for several reasons. Most importantly, he simply wanted to check up on her and see if she was feeling any better—what a nasty flu she seemed to have caught. But what could you expect? After running around in the rain and cold, in only a skirt and bare feet, of course she was sick. Jeremie wondered exactly how she had fun doing that.

If she were to be feeling better, he'd take the pleasure of escorting her down to breakfast and sharing his croissant with hers, per usual. Recovering from an illness was an excuse he would accept in sharing his own food. She did need the nutrients, after all. But even that along with her sudden cold were not the only reasons leading him towards her room so early that morning. He also had the strange sensation that something may be wrong. Something more than her cough and her fever. See, nightmares were not a rare occurrence for Aelita—everyone in the group knew that. Jeremie had become accustomed to letting her stay the night and rest in his arms, anything to keep her mind at ease. More importantly, however, was the fact that Jeremie knew exactly when to expect her. It wasn't a feeling he could explain, but usually his stomach would turn and he'd suddenly be struck with uneasiness. Shortly after, she'd come waltzing along, face still wet with tears.

Perhaps it was internal radar for Aelita's emotional state. The thing was that last night, he had been overwhelmed with that very feeling. A minor tingling in his gut, the impatience of just waiting for that knock on the door.

But said knock never came.

So he trailed over to her door, praying that he hadn't accidentally ignored it, that the sound hadn't flown right over his head. Or even worse—that Laura hadn't been lying when she swore she didn't hear anyone at the door.

He tapped his knuckles against the door, waiting for her to open—or for her to groan from the other side that it was alright for him to come in. But there was no response, no shuffling of feet or rustling of bed covers. Complete silence. He pressed his ear against the door, listening for any slight sound, but all he heard was the soft humming of her heater and perhaps that was what was blocking out her presence. She was usually a quiet sleeper—when she wasn't having a bad dream, specifically.

Looking twice down both ends of the hallway, the blonde, now slightly perplexed, helped himself inside of her room and grew surprised upon realizing that she had left it unlocked. So did that mean that she had left only for a brief moment? Maybe she was already at breakfast, or perhaps she was just in the showers or using the restroom. Was the cafeteria even open yet? It was strange, that she would be getting ready for her day this early. The sun hadn't even begun to rise—Aelita's normal waking time was at six. He pursed his lips and folded his arms, trying to figure out where it was she could be.

But the reality was that Jeremie was on the wrong floor. Aelita was just above, on the boy's floor—the same floor she'd been on last night after a failed attempt at confiding in Jeremie. Odd had offered for her to come inside, for them to chat and for her to tell about whatever it was on her mind because clearly she had something to say, and the boy bit his tongue at the idea that Jeremie didn't want to listen to her. Or more likely, couldn't make the time to listen to her. And who was he, to turn down a friend in need? Especially Aelita—sensitive as she was.

Aelita didn't take a second to think about her decision. She was alone, on the edge of an anxiety attack and just needed someone to talk to. And when she had ended up falling asleep in the process—well, he wasn't going to take the effort to carry her all the way downstairs. And more importantly, he didn't want to disturb her, not with as peaceful as she looked. And… more importantly, he wasn't going to risk Jim catching him carrying a seemingly unconscious girl across the boy's floor so late at night. All three things were very bad, and Odd had made the most logical decision. She'd fallen asleep at the foot of his own bed, probably wore herself out just from as much chattering as she did with as weak as her body clearly was. That cold, whatever it was, seemed to be pretty heavy, and Odd couldn't deny that she needed rest. At the same time, not wanting her to be uncomfortable, he made himself a spot on the floor, hoping Ulrich wouldn't mind that she was staying the night.

Although, if at any time she wanted to leave—she could.

Admittedly…A tiny part of him hoped that she wouldn't.

Ulrich came home about an hour later. Turns out he'd been at a midnight movie showing with Yumi and William. He stared at the slumbering lump on the floor—nearly tripped on it, and whispered Odd's name in an attempt to ask why the girl was sleeping in their dorm.

But it wasn't Odd who answered, the scrawny boy had long been fast asleep and Ulrich could barely hear his own mumbles over the droning sound of his snores. It was Aelita, muttering beneath the covers that she'd fallen asleep on accident, and supposedly Odd had let her stay and set himself up some temporary quarters by the bedside. Ulrich raised an eyebrow—he asked why she was there in the first place so late. But Aelita, she merely frowned, and the brunette knew not to push any further because obviously she wasn't having a good night. And if she was in his room and not Jeremie's—well, he knew she must really not be having a good night.

He smiled at her and wished her sweet dreams, but none came to the girl for the rest of the dark hours. Not with Odd's horrible snores and mumbles. God, he was such an aggressively loud sleeper. No matter how many times she tossed and turned, covered her ears or hid under her pillow, nothing helped mute the sounds. She pitied Ulrich and wondered just how he put up with this every single night.

She lied there the entire night, blinking at the ceiling. She didn't want to just get up and leave—she'd risk waking both boys up, and she also didn't want to risk the slight chance that she may offend Odd by leaving so soon. Not that he'd be offended—he surely wouldn't, right? But still, she also didn't want to risk getting caught this late. And above all things, she just didn't feel like getting up. The hallway was freezing, and here in this room, under this heavy comforter, it was the perfect temperature.

So she waited as long as she could, until she heard the first few tweets of early morning birds and wasted not one second springing upwards. This meant that it was time to awaken anyways—for her, at least. Maybe Ulrich and Odd would sleep in longer, and if they wanted to that was okay. But Aelita was getting the hell out of there.

Taking her precious time, she slid away from the mass of pillows beneath her and tip-toed over to the door, another quick glance at the unconscious men sprawled across the bed and floor in front of her. Trying not to wake either—although, she was sure that they were both rather heavy sleepers, she slid through the small opening she'd made and quickly clicked the door shut behind her.

She paused, back facing the door but ears listening intently. Surely enough, she could still hear the vibrations of Odd's snores.

Success.

But almost immediately, she found herself shivering and her lungs twitching once more, signaling a cough fit was making its way towards her. Not wanting to awaken the entire floor—and more importantly, the boy's floor—she started scampering towards the staircase, trying to get back to her own room as quickly as possible.

She was expecting to slip inside before Jim could start his seven a.m. patrol and grab her shampoo, head straight to the shower and soak up the steam before the other girls started crowding inside. So, naturally, her heart dropped when she saw Jeremie standing at her door, just ready to walk away. And he was equally surprised.

"Aelita?" he immediately called out—before dropping his voice, realizing that everyone else was still asleep and he, too, was on a floor he shouldn't be.

"Jeremie?" Aelita whispered in return, her brow furrowing at the startling sight. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged. "I was just going to say good morning. You know…like I usually do."

"Right," she nodded along. Of course. He stopped by every morning—just…not this early. "You don't usually come this early, though."

"Taking precaution, I guess."

"Precaution for what?"

"I just wanted to see if you'd gotten any better."

"I feel fine, thank you." She flashed a small smile; an attempt to show gratitude although admittedly, she was a little annoyed—mostly just because she wanted to hurry and shower, not have a conversation.

Jeremie pressed his lips into a firm line, taking quick glances at her from head to toe. "So…where were you?"

"I…" she trailed off. This was why she wasn't exactly happy to see him—because depending on how long he'd been perched outside her door, he would have grown suspicious at one point or another. After all, under the surface Jeremie was the most impatient one of the group. "How long have you been standing there?"

"A minute or two. I figured you were in the shower and I wasn't gonna stand here for half an hour," he smiled.

She smirked back. "Of course, yeah. Well…that's where I was."

A blatant lie. He frowned. "Your hair isn't wet."

Nice one. "Ah…"

Now Jeremie was growing more confused—if she'd been in the bathroom, shower, breakfast, whatever, why would she feel the need to lie about it? It meant she felt she couldn't tell him, whatever it was. Whether or not it was about why she wasn't in her room, Jeremie was quickly confirming his own belief that something bothersome was on her mind; that something was not well with her.

"Aelita…" he let his arms fall to his sides. "You know you never have to lie to me. I'm all ears, remember?"

She mocked him inside her head—some bullshit that was. Not with Laura hanging on his arm all of the time.

"I just want to grab my things and go shower, if you don't mind," she replied, a snarky tone. It startled the tired blonde standing in front of her.

"Hey," he whispered, lightly taking hold of her wrist as she tried to turn inside her room. "What's the matter, Aelita?"

"Nothing," she pulled away.

"I don't believe you."

"I don't believe half the things you say, but you don't hear me whining."

"Okay, what has gotten into you?"

"Nothing. I'm sick, I want a hot shower to help with my sinuses, that's all."

She wandered into her room and Jeremie remained leaning against the door frame. He was conflicted. He wanted to follow her inside her room and push the conversation further, figure out whatever it was that was causing her to pull such a harsh attitude all of the sudden. At the same time, though, he didn't want to completely piss her off, or force her to say anything she didn't want to.

It's just…well, Aelita didn't act like that. Not unless she was hiding something—because she wasn't good at bottling up her feelings, no matter how hard she tried. They'd find a way out one way or another, and Jeremie had to make sure he prevented that from happening. He assumed it was because she had definitely had some sort of traumatizing dream and wasn't telling. Instead, she was letting it eat at her.

"You had a bad dream last night, didn't you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

She didn't respond, merely kept her eyes fixed on the vanity before her while searching for her conditioner. She'd seemed to have misplaced it.

"'Lita," he egged on.

"I don't understand," she looked up at him. "I always keep it right next to my shampoo."

He groaned, "Aelita."

"Where could it be?"

"Why won't you talk to me?"

Aelita ceased her search and sighed, turning towards her window. "Yes," she mumbled.

"Hmm?"

"Yes, I had a bad dream. It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you were too busy with Laura."

Jeremie straightened his posture, his heart sinking. So that had been it, then—she'd obviously come by his room and instead found out he was working with Laura. Aelita wasn't the best at handling jealousy.

But nonetheless, there was no reason she should ever feel that Jeremie would turn her away for Laura.

"I wasn't too busy. Aelita, you know that you can always come to me when you need me."

"It doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

"Because Odd was there instead," she snapped.

"…What?"

And here it comes, she moaned inside her head. All she wanted to do was take a simple shower. As of late, she couldn't even do miniscule things like that. It was getting irritating.

"I went to Odd's room instead," she added, giving Jeremie eye-contact at last. "Is that a problem? He was there, you weren't."

"What do you mean he was there?"

Aelita grumbled—she hated feeling like she was being interrogated, she hated when Jeremie tried to act like her damned father. "It means what it sounds like. I went to you room, you were busy with Laura. When I went to head back to my room, I ran into Odd. He invited me inside. We talked, it was fine. I'm fine now."

"What do you mean he invited you inside? So that's where you were—you spent the night?"

"I didn't do it on purpose. I just kind of…fell asleep. Why do you care?"

He cleared his throat, glancing somewhere to the side. "I—I don't."

"Yes you do. Are you mad?"

"Of course not."

"You're lying."

"Yeah, you lied about where you were, so I don't see why it matters."

"I don't see why it matters that I spent the night with Odd! What's the matter—are you jealous?"

"Of course not! The only one who is jealous here is you!"

"Me?"

"Yes! You flip out every time you see me around Laura! All we're trying to do is help you find your mother!"

"I don't care if you hang out with Laura—when it's just to work on Lyoko then it's fine, but I'm curious to know why you're so friendly with her all of a sudden. You've never told me about your mother!"

Jeremie blinked at her and shook his head. "Okay…what the hell are you talking about?"

"Nothing," she shook her head along with him, turned to continue searching for her conditioner. He paused for a moment, pondering exactly what she'd just said. And the realization—well, it offended him.

"You were eavesdropping?"

Aelita stopped searching—again. She didn't answer.

"Nice to know I get privacy," he mocked.

She rolled her eyes, clutching the bottle of shampoo. "I guess I don't get to use conditioner today."

"What, I'm not allowed to be friends with Laura?"

She frowned. All the yelling—she'd overexerted herself. She could feel her chest tightening, not with anxiety—but some reason, it was just becoming difficult to breathe. "I didn't say that," she lowered her voice.

"Why do you hate her so much?"

"I don't."

"Of course you don't."

"I just want to shower, Jeremie."

He exhaled, blowing at a tuft of hair dangling in his eyes. "Fine."

Without saying a word, Aelita shoved past him and marched down the hall. He rested a palm against his forehead, rolling his eyes. "See you at breakfast," he muttered under his breath.